


Caught in the Woods

by TheAllAmericanGirl



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Halloween, M/M, Mages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAllAmericanGirl/pseuds/TheAllAmericanGirl
Summary: Matthew wanted a nice, relaxing weekend in the woods. What he got was a broken ankle and being bed-ridden in an unfamiliar house filled with odd occupants. How will Matthew continue when things keep getting weirder and weirder?





	Caught in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> My summary sucks, I'm sorry. This will be a short Halloween special fan fiction staring my OTP, AmeCan!

Matthew was always one for the outdoors. Hiking, pond-hockey, bike-riding, running… You name it, Matthew loves doing it. 

 

“Sleeping bag… check! Cooking utensils… got it. Tent… yup, right there.” The blonde man shuts his car’s trunk, which is loaded with things for a weekend, solo-man camping trip in the woods. Matthew hops into the car, taking one last look at his house, before backing out of his driveway. The campsite is no more than an hour away and it’s one Matthew has booked many times. He likes familiarity when he goes out and about, for safety measures. Of course, he always tells his friend Katyusha where he’s going and for how long. He practices his camping smarts! 

 

Matthew is grateful he left early enough to beat any traffic on the roads, and the sun is just starting to peak up by the time he reaches the park. He takes a quick stop to check in with the park ranger, a quirky but kind man named Antonio. 

 

“Ah, Matthew! I wasn’t surprised when I saw you had booked another camping spot.” Antonio smiles at him and, after some searching through the stacks of papers on his desk, pulls out a form and a parking pass. “You know the drill.”

 

Matthew signs his name, the date, and time before passing the paper back to Antonio. “Yeah, I wanted to get one last trip in before the busy season at work starts. I have to be able to de-stress while I still can.” Matt offers a small, almost sad smile at the thought of losing his down-time.

 

Antonio brushes back his curly brown hair and smiles sympathetically. “I guess it won’t make you feel better to know that my season is dying down and I’ll have some more free time, does it?”

 

The blonde shakes his head, but smiles nonetheless. “Well, just make sure to think of me when you’re relaxing and watching TV, will ya?”

 

“Of course, of course.” Toni turns his attention back to the papers laid out on his desk. “Have a good trip, Matt. You know to come get me if you need anything.”

 

Matt waves his hand before heading back out to his car. He puts the parking pass in the dashboard and throws his pack full of his supplies onto his back before turning to the trail that leads to his campground.

 

The campground he chose is about a two-hour walk, which is difficult with the pack, but Matt likes to be away from other campers when he comes to visit. A park ranger still stops by every morning and night to make sure he’s alright, but for the rest, it’s nice and quiet. 

 

The walk up does do well to stretch Matt’s legs after an hour in the car, but he is quick to throw his pack off when he reaches his destination. He stretches out his arms and back and takes in the view: his campground is on a nice piece of elevated land that shows the top of golden and auburn-topped trees and stretched out park land. 

 

“Absolutely stunning.” Matthew says aloud. He smiles because there’s no one around to mock him for talking to himself (a habit he finds himself doing at home and at work).

 

Once his muscles have relaxed a little, he makes quick work of setting up the campsite. By the time that work is finished, it’s nearly lunchtime. Matthew sets up a little pot and cooks himself some light soup—just enough to make him full and give him energy, but not enough that he can’t go exploring after. He enjoys the soft rustle of the trees in a light wind as he eats his meal.

 

He quickly cleans up once he’s done with his soup, double-checking that the fire is nice and put out. He grabs a small pack and fills it with some trail mix, a bottle of water, and hat and gloves and heads out for a familiar trail to start his weekend of hiking.

 

Matthew goes up and up on the mountain, relishing in the crunching of leaves underneath him. He finds his ears straining in the quiet of the woods, hoping to hear the chittering of squirrels or the chirping of birds, but finds that it’s silent. 

 

“Maybe they’ve all gone to hibernate?” Matt wonders, speaking aloud to help quell the unease he feels about the much-too-silent woods. He knows it’s too early for the birds to head South and for the squirrels to burrow for sleep, so he settles on that he was just making a lot of noise in his ascent. He wants to enjoy the rest of his hike. 

 

He falls into a daze after the sound realization, and doesn’t snap out of it until sometime during his hike, when he starts to shiver and realizes it had started to get cold. He looks around and realizes he went up higher than he wanted to for the afternoon. He slides on his gloves and hat, thankful that he brought them, and hurriedly goes back down the trail.

 

He makes it back to his campsite just as the sun slips behind the trees, frustrated at himself for being so careless. He feels sluggish after racing down the trail, so he just eats some trail mix for dinner before fixing himself up for bed, heading into the tent for a night’s sleep.

\--

He wakes up in a cool sweat, unable to remember _what_ he was dreaming about exactly, but that he had never been so scared in his life. He lies against his pillow, eyes wide-open, but trying to slow his rapid heartbeat. There’s no sound of crickets, rustling leaves, or anything. Total silence.

 

“We’re gonna pack up and leave tomorrow.” The “we” makes him feel more secure, that if there’s any other-worldly being… “Stop that! Oh my gosh, what am I? Five? I don’t believe in that stuff anymore” Still, he can’t help but think about how perfect this scenario is for a horror movie: a man alone in the woods, waking up in the middle of the night… 

 

He must’ve fallen asleep again at some point during the night, because when he opens his eyes the tent is filled with light. His head is pounding from the lack of sleep, but he forces himself out of his sleeping bag and into the cold morning air of the tent. Matthew quickly dresses into a warm flannel and jeans, with a cap on his head and thick wool socks on his feet. He cooks some instant oatmeal over a fire and scarfs it down. The forest is still eerily silent. Not even the cover of day can calm his nerves that _something just isn’t right here!!_

 

He hurriedly puts the fire out and half-heartedly cleans his pan—he’s getting out of here, now. It only hits him now that Toni or another park ranger never came to check on his last night, either. He shoves the last of his things into his bag and rushes down the trail. He’s getting out of here he’s going home he’s—

 

Yelping as he falls to the earth, his leg tripped up by a tree. His bag gets jostled from his back in the fall and Matthew is tumbling down, down, down, until his head smacks against a rock and his world turns dark.   
\--

Matthew blinks open his eyes and sees clear, crystal blue. _The sky?_ He wonders, before passing out again.

 

Matthew wakes up a second time and sees soft, golden wisps swaying in the breeze. _Wheat?_ His cloudy brain thinks He feels like he’s floating; no, something is carrying him. He can make out the vague feeling of something wrapped around his back and under his knees. He shuts his eyes again.

 

Matthew wakes up a third time, much more lucid, and no longer feels like he’s floating. His head is still buzzing around, but his body feels comfortable; it’s on something solid yet soft. He looks around, unfamiliar in his settings, and sees a wolf?! No, no, just a large, fuzzy dog, dozing in the corner.

 

The fourth time Matthew wakes up, it is not of his own choosing. Something is nudging his face; something wet and cold and he scrunches his face. He wants to keep napping! But, as the thing keeps pushing at his face, Matthew feels a dull ache in the back of his head and a constant throb in his left ankle. Not so comfortable anymore, he opens his eyes. He realizes the cold thing stopped touching him when he opened his eyes and so he slowly tilts his head, grimacing at the pain the movement causes him. 

 

Everything is a bit blurry, and his there’s a throbbing pressure behind his eyes. But where are his glasses? He squeezes his eyes shut and reopens them, trying to focus on his glasses. Maybe he can find his glasses. Instead of seeing his glasses, however, he’s face-to-face with a large golden blob. Matthew freezes because, even without his glasses, he can feel the intensity of the stare of the dog-wolf. Matt feels goosebumps rise on his body and his lip trembles and _oh god it’s just like the nightmare!_

 

“Alfred, don’t bother him!” A crisp, English accent cuts through the air and Matthew tenses up: he should be back at his car, driving home. Where is he? 

 

The large blob whines, but obeys the command and walks away from Matthew, sitting down in the corner he was snoozing in and staring at Matthew. Matthew relaxes slightly with the distance now between them. The blonde hears footsteps come in and a man with sandy blonde hair and huge eyebrows comes in. It looks like he’s wearing a cloak and tunic, which leaves Matthew even more confused.

 

“Ah, good, you’re awake. We were getting worried you’d never wake up.” The man comes closer and, if Matthew were better condition, he would’ve… He doesn’t know. Run away? Appear more threatening?

 

“Who…” Matthew sputters, his throat dry and voice hoarse from not being used. “Where… I..?” 

 

The man holds and object out, and Matthew squints, realizing it’s his glasses case. He opens them and shoves them on, getting a better look at the Brit now. Up close, Matthew can see the man’s hair is in disarray, and his eyes are a shocking green, much more vibrant and clear than Antonio’s. Matt wonders if they’re contacts.

 

“You’re lucky those survived the fall; must be a strong case you have. Nearly everything else was crushed in the fall.” The man speaks, and Matthew starts to remember more: trying to rush back to his car, falling, tumbling, darkness. He places a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I’m going to try and get you in an upright position, lad, we need to get you some water for that throat.” 

 

Matthew tried to squirm, to stop this man from touching him until he had his answers, but to no avail. He’s in a weak state and found himself sitting up, realizing he’s on a bed with a bunch of squishy pillows for support. He grimaces at what the movement does to his headache.

 

“I’ll give you something for the pain after you’ve eaten. I could clear up the wound, but there’s nothing I can do for the aches, unfortunately.”

 

Matthew vaguely thought that Alfred was the dog’s name, but perhaps he’s wrong. Besides, it’s not the most pressing matter. He opens his mouth to speak, but Arthur shoves a straw in his mouth and a cup into his hand. 

 

Matthew looks up curiously, but Arthur just sighs. “It’s just water.”

 

Matthew takes a tentative sip and once he confirms it is just water, he gulps it down, his parched throat aching but grateful for the moisture. He pulls the straw from his mouth once he depletes the water and demands, “Who are you? Where am I?” It still comes out like a loud whisper, but it’s better than before.

 

The man nods, “Right, pardon me, my manners have slipped me. I am Arthur, you are in my home. My, er, son found you when he was out and brought you back. You’ve been out for a few days, my boy.”

 

The blonde gasps. “And you didn’t think-“He takes a sip of water from a new glass that Arthur hands him, “to take me to a hospital?” 

 

“Well, my healing is just as good as any doctors!” Arthur huffed, crossing his arms. “Besides, we live far to off in the woods and don’t have a car. You would have been dead if we took you straight away.”

 

“Where’s my phone? I need to call Kat, or my work, or _someone_ to let them know I’m alright.” Matthew cried, growing frustrated and anxious.

 

Arthur shook his head. “It was shattered in the fall. We still have the remains, if you want the proof.”

 

“How do I know you didn’t just break it yourself?” Matthew snarled. He realized he could be in a dangerous situation, but couldn’t find himself to care. He wouldn’t be able to get away anyhow, so no use prolonging anything.

 

The Brit scoffed. “If I had wanted to harm you, I would have done so, or left you out for the bears or wolves or whatever roams the forest.”

 

Matthew supposed that logic was true, but, even if he wanted to argue more, he felt his energy failing him, and he found himself asleep once more.  
\--  
When he awoke again, he was staring into bright, bright blue. Jerking back in surprise, he realized he was staring at a face. He was surprised his glasses staying on, but grateful he could make that difference. A shock of silky gold fell over his forehead and Matthew started to remember, remember who had carried him to this house. Past the eyes was a straight nose flecked with nearly-invisibly freckles on the dark, sun-tanned skin, and thick lips, parted to reveal too-perfect teeth and too-sharp-for-a-human canines. Matthew shivered.

 

“Er… Can I… Uhm.. Please move.” He squeaked out, feeling cold even though the gaze was warm and friendly.

 

“Oh! Sorry!” The man laughed. “Arthur says I always break ‘personal bubbles’ and all that jazz.” He did move back, but still sat on the bed, as if he were Matthew’s old friend. “I didn’t get to introduce myself to you last time, so I’ve been waiting for you to wake up again! You weren’t out for that long, though, which is lucky for me!” 

 

He spoke so fast that, even though Matthew’s head did feel marginally better thanks to being hydrated and extra rest, he still had a hard time keeping up. The tan man didn’t even give him a chance to speak, anyway, so it didn’t really matter. 

 

“I’m Alfred! I’m the one who brought you here, so, I’m basically your hero.” He explained, and Matthew would’ve thought that Alfred was like a Golden Retriever if it wasn’t for the fact that the hair on the back of Matt’s neck was standing up. “Haha, dude, relax! You don’t have to be scared of me.”

 

How could Alfred tell? Maybe Matt’s face gave it away. “Er, sorry. Uhm, do you know when I can go home? I have a job and friends and stuff…” 

 

“Arthur said not until your leg heals better. It was pretty messed up, and Arthur can only do so much. Don’t worry, I know you’ll really like it here!” Alfred touched Matt’s leg in what was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but Matt tensed like a frightened animal. Al could sense the difference and seemed to deflate and pulls his hand away. He clears his throat and looks away like he’s been physically struck. “I’ll…. Go tell Arthur you’re awake.” 

 

With that, Alfred rushes out of the room, head down. 

\--

Surprisingly enough, he found himself warming up to Arthur. They would play chess together when he was in bed and found they both enjoyed old English literature, so they would discuss that thoroughly. Matthew also met Francis, a neighbor, and they bonded over being able to speak French (which annoyed Arthur to no end). It made Matthew feel better that other people lived by; perhaps there was a chance someone would have a phone, since Arthur and Francis didn’t have one. The only person Matthew had trouble around was Alfred, whom each day tried harder and harder to be Matthew’s friend and more and more rejected when Matt made no reciprocation. 

 

Something about him felt… off. 

 

Matthew woke up feeling refreshed and excited. After a week on bed rest, Matthew is finally able to walk around on crutches. He’d be on them for a few more weeks, given the severity of his injury, and then there was talk of him going home. He couldn’t wait.

 

He found the crutches laying against the bed for easy access. He called out for Arthur, wanting some supervision when trying to stand for the first time, but instead came Alfred.

 

“Hi, Matthew!” Alfred flashed a smile full of teeth when he walked in, looking as happy as ever. “Arthur is over at Francis’ house, but I can help you with the crutches all the same.”

 

Matthew averted Alfred’s intense stare. “No, I should be just fine, thank-you.” He could see Alfred recoil out of the corner of his eye and felt guilty. He just can’t help but not open up to Alfred. He cleared his throat and reached for the crutches. He gingerly pulled himself out of bed and held either one on each side. Before he could rightfully slip them under his arms, his good leg gave out and he found himself falling—

 

Into muscular, immensely strong arms. Alfred didn’t even falter an inch with Matthew’s extra weight. Alfred laughed, “Told ya you needed me!” He patted Matt’s back good-naturedly, but Matthew was having none of it.

 

His heart was racing, eyes wide, and pushes himself off of Alfred’s chest, falling back onto the bed. “I don’t! I’m fine, I don’t need you!” Matt snapped, glaring up at Al.

 

Up this close, Matthew could see it—what he was deep down terrified of, what Alfred couldn’t hide behind wide grins and kind eyes. Blue eyes flashed, the pupils slitted quickly, an animalistic growl rumbled in his throat. But, within the blink of an eye, Al’s wounded puppy look emerged, but it seemed trying. “I… I try so hard for you, Matthew.” 

 

If Matthew wasn’t frozen to his spot, mind so focused on the fear he’s feeling, he would have felt guilty about snapping. Alfred walked out of the room, and Matthew gave on the crutches for the day.

\--

Arthur came home late that night. Matt could hear him and Alfred talking in hushed voices before Arthur knocked on his door. “Matthew, lad, can I come in?”

 

Matthew didn’t give him an answer; Arthur didn’t wait for one. “How are you today?” The Brit asked, putting on a smile Matt knew was fake.

 

“What’s going on here? What is Alfred? What are _you_?!” Matt snapped. “Why do you wear such weird clothes, live in the middle of nowhere? Is this some sort of cult? I want to go home!” Which, at this point, was a lie. Matthew was, minus his interactions with Alfred, enjoying his time in Arthur’s house. He didn’t have to think about his sad existence back home: his dead-end job, small, drafty house in a bad-part of town, his lack of friends… 

 

Arthur could see right through Matthew’s act, and only went to the important questions. “Grab the crutches, I have to show you something.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I have ever written. I decided to cut it here until the next chapter!


End file.
